


Language Barriers

by Caollaidhoe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, is that high enough i dont know, lev is just really trying, rating is for bad words, this is silly, yaku is precious and rude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caollaidhoe/pseuds/Caollaidhoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yaku is on a college exchange in America, and after a long day all he wants to do is take a nap in this empty carriage he managed to score on the train ride home. </p><p>Enter stage left: some fucking European asshole who bypasses all 40-something other seats in the place to sit right in front of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Language Barriers

**Author's Note:**

> There's a lot of italics in here. Beware
> 
> I don't know what this is. It’s labelled on my computer as yakulev train trash so I'm just gonna leave it here and run away... yeah *hides*

Yaku stretched his neck, sighing as he sunk into the vaguely comfortable and questionably decorated train seat. Honestly he might have fallen asleep on any non-concrete surface at that point so he really couldn't care less.  
  
The carriage was completely empty, he'd made sure of it when he stepped on the train. He almost cried in victory when he came across it, peace and quiet after a long shitty day of college and running around the city with this hyperactive guy from his program who _insisted_ they hang out and reminded him too suspiciously of Kuroo.  
  
Yaku twisted his head, leaning on his chair and the window in an attempt to get comfortable as the bright lights of the city flashed past the window in a blur. The sky seemed to grow darker by the second, the inky blue-black giving way to a greyer hue, some of the closer, brighter stars managing to pierce the haze of city lights.  
  
He let his eyes fall shut, hoping to get a short nap in for the remaining half hour of the train ride.  
  
Teetering on the edge of consciousness a few minutes later (probably, time doesn't make much sense in that state), Yaku was vaguely aware of the train screeching slowly to a stop and the voice overhead announcing the station they'd arrived at. No one had come on board his carriage for the last three stops, so he paid no mind.  
  
However, the doors took slightly longer to close this time around, the beep that signalled passengers to stand clear coming half a second later than usual. Normally, you wouldn't even notice it, but followed by the distinct sound of footsteps, Yaku definitely noticed.  
  
His eyes snapped open instantly, zeroing in on the absolute _Neanderthal_ that decided that _this_ was the carriage they were going to choose. The fool that thought disturbing a napping Yaku Morisuke was a top-notch-Nobel-prize-winning idea.  
  
And he watched, face painted with disbelief, as the tallest mother fucker he'd seen today strolled down the aisle, a phone pressed to his ear as he babbled away in a language Yaku couldn't pick, and sat himself _right in from of him._  
  
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.  
  
It was bad enough that he sat where he did, but it was made worse by the layout of the chairs; the one Yaku occupied facing forwards while the opposite holding the asshole faced backwards. There was no escape. Yaku was facing this guy head on — point blank range — and it was almost impossible to see anything else with the sheer size of the guy. 

Yaku glared at him subtly, trying to communicate without words that this was totally not an okay thing to do, and he should move immediately. The guy didn’t even budge.

Yaku looked around. If he could be bothered counting the rest of the seats here (which he absolutely could not) he could give this guy a good chunk of reasons why he should have parked his ass anywhere but there.  
  
He estimated. Forty-ish. He had forty-ish fucking reasons and god damn it someone was going to hear them.  
  
Yaku dug around his bag for his phone.  
  
The guy in front of him continued to talk animatedly into his phone in some Slavic language (maybe Polish or Russian) and they were in America so it wasn't like he spoke Japanese.  
  
“‘Lo?" A cracked, sleepy voice filtered through the line.  
  
Yaku felt guilty for all of three seconds, it was probably some god awful hour of the morning in Japan. But that wasn’t important, this asshole in front of him was a more pressing issue.  
  
"Kuroo."  
  
"Yaku!" Kuroo voice perked up instantly, "You haven't called in ages, Kenma and I thought you'd gotten into a drug cartel."  
  
Yaku blinked, then shook his head, "Kuroo you would not believe what happened to me just now."  
  
"Did you smuggle some illicit substances in your ass? That’s never a good idea."  
  
Yaku ignored him, "So I scored an empty carriage on the train home right, and I was like 'finally, the world is rewarding me for being such an upstanding citizen'. So I sat my ass down, stretched out, got comfy, and _just_ as I was about to get some shut eye, the train came to a stop."  
  
"No." Kuroo’s voice was monotone, humouring Yaku’s little tirade.  
  
Yaku didn't care. He was tired and he was _pissed_.  
  
"Yes." He confirmed Kuroo’s fabricated fears, "We roll to a stop, the doors open, and I hear it. Goddamn footsteps."  
  
" _No_."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You can't sleep on a train when other people are there, what if you had a sex dream?"  
  
" _I know_. It gets worse."  
  
"Oh god, _it gets worse_."  
  
Any other day Yaku would rip Kuroo a new one for that tone, but damn it he was angry and he wanted to rant even if he may have chosen the wrong friend to do so to. He wondered if Kenma was next to Kuroo, maybe he could take the phone. Though, according to Kuroo, Kenma slept like a log.  
  
"This _guy_ just saunters up to the middle of the carriage and sits _right opposite me_." Yaku hissed, glancing at the man who was still engrossed in his conversation.

"With an empty carriage? He still sat in your space?" Kuroo was starting to sound genuinely empathetic for him. As he should.

"Yes."  
  
"Wow. What an ass." Kuroo said. "What's he doing now, maybe if you give him one of the famous Yaku glares for long enough hell get scared and move?"  
  
Yaku groaned, forgetting to defend himself from the 'Yaku glare' comment, "I tried that already! He's impervious to it!"  
  
" _No way_ ," Kuroo said, voice climbing an octave, "I wanna meet this carriage-stealing superhuman. Everyone crumbles under the Yaku glare."  
  
Yaku ignored him once more. "And now he's just sitting there, talking on his phone in Russian or something without a care in the world. I hate him, Kuroo."  
  
"I hate him in solidarity. Still impressed by his glare resistance though."  
  
"And he has these ridiculously long legs and even tighter pants and they look _great_ but they're in my damn space, he's not even staying on his side, Kuroo!"  
  
"Did you just say he has great legs?"  
  
" _Yes_. They're like freaking stilts he's an absolute tree. Or maybe a marble statue sculptured by someone who wants to fuck with me."  
  
"I'm gonna need you to surreptitiously take a picture of these legs I’ve got to see them."  
  
Yaku barrelled on, barely processing Kuroo’s replies now. He was on a roll. "And _god_ , he has these stupid eyes that are like forest green or something—“

“—did you just say _forest green_ oh my god—“

“—and they're way too pretty for such an asshole to have and his hair is like grey? That makes him sound like an old man but it actually suits him and it looks _so soft_ how does anyone get their hair that soft, Kuroo. How am I this—"  
  
"You think my eyes are pretty?"  
  
Yaku paused. "What did you say, Kuroo?"  
  
"Huh? I didn't say anything but I really need to see this guy now he sounds hot as fuck, you might be in love." Kuroo chuckled.  
  
"You didn't say...?" Yaku froze.  
  
His eyes were glued on a safety sign on the other side of the train, his jaw slack.

Like some crappy, low-budget horror film, Yaku’s gaze panned slowly back to the front, locking on the tall man opposite him.  
  
He wished the floor would give out beneath him and he'd never have to see that stupid attractive face again because the guy was no longer on his phone — probably hadn't been for a little while — and he was _grinning_ at Yaku.  
  
"What?" Yaku choked out, voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Seeing that he was finally being addressed, the man perked up. "You think my eyes are pretty and my hair is soft? I think you're cute! What’s your name?"  
  
_Japanese_. Fuck. He fucked up. _He fucked up_. FUCK.

“…Could you just give me a moment?” Yaku mumbled. He raised his phone back to his ear, which he’d apparently lowered into his lap in shock.

“—aku? Yaku, are you there?”

“Kuroo!” Yaku hissed into the receiver, holding his hand in front of his mouth as he did to direct his words only at Kuroo, “he speaks Japanese!”

“Oh my _god,_ are you serious?!”

“Yes! Kuroo, I fucked up!”

“He heard everything you just said didn’t he?” Yaku could already hear the intense humiliation he was going to be subject to upon his return to Japan.

“Most of it.” Yaku replied miserably.

“Oh man, this is great. This is _hilarious._ Hold up, I gotta wake Kenma, he has to hear this…”

“Kuroo, you’re not helping! What should I do?!” Trying to whisper loudly was the weirdest phenomenon.  
  
"Yaku, he can _hear you_. Right now. He understands you, remember?" Kuroo snickered, clearly trying to holding in a fit of laughter.  
  
Yaku blinked, an embarrassing heat spreading down his neck. He refused to look at the tree, who was probably laughing at the scene Yaku was making.  
  
"Kuroo do we speak any other languages?!"

Kuroo’s laughter bubbled through the line, loud and irritating. "I don't know, Yaku, do you speak Russian?" He wheezed out.  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"I, for one, speak fluent Russian. Lemme speak to him."  
  
"I'm gonna kick your ass when I'm back in Tokyo." Yaku tried to sound threatening, but his voice was shaking in shame, betraying the whole plan. Stupid voice.  
  
"Go get some of that Russian-tree ass, buddy," his friend howled, "No no, wait, climb him _like a tree_ oh my god I'm hilarious—"  
  
"I'm hanging up now." Yaku pulled the phone away, but not before hearing Kuroo yelling through the receiver;  
  
"MY FRIEND WANTS TO LICK EVERY INCH OF YOUR RUSSIAN-TREE LEGS."  
  
Yaku glared at the 'call ended' screen, shoving his phone into his bag aggressively. God he hoped this guy hadn't heard that last part.  
  
He chanced a look across the way, flushing further against his will when those damn beautiful eyes were sparkling back at him, pink lips spread in a massive grin. It wasn’t cute, Yaku told himself, he looked like a kid. He looked like a kid.  
  
“I’m Haiba Lev, but call me Lev. I’m half Japanese.” He explained.

“Right.” Yaku had no idea what to say. He’d thoroughly embarrassed himself by this point. He just wanted to go home. He glanced up at the digital screen above the door that connected to the next carriage. Two more stops. He was so close.

“Um,” Lev’s smile fell a little, sounding disheartened at the response, “What’s your name?”

Yaku scrutinised the man from beneath his lashes, “Yaku.”

That blinding smile was back, “It’s nice to meet you, Yaku-san!” this guy was easy to please. It was strange hearing the honorific tacked onto his name after being in the States for so long.

Yaku sighed. Just two more stops. “What are you doing in America?” he asked, Lev looking pleased that he was making conversation.

“I’m here on a holiday! What about you, Yaku-san?" 

“An exchange program for university.”

“Oh, that’s really cool!” Lev gushed.

Yaku’s lips twitched. He sounded genuinely interested in what he had to say. Damn it he was cute.

“What university do you go to?”

“Waseda, in Tokyo—“

“I’m from Okutama! We live pretty close, Yaku-san!” Lev interrupted, practically bouncing in his seat.

Yaku nodded, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, we do.” He paused, “Why did you sit there, Lev? The carriage is empty you could have sat anywhere else and had a lot more room.” Yaku eyed Lev’s long legs pointedly, their feet almost touching in the taller man’s attempt to fit them in between the two of them.  

Yaku thought he imagined the faint blush on Lev’s cheeks. Surely someone that carefree didn’t get flustered?

“Well, like I said,” he shrugged, “I think you’re cute. I saw you when I stepped on and I just went for it I guess.”

“Right…” Yaku said, looking down at his hands guiltily. Now he felt bad for all the names he called him! And he had actually _understood them_. “Lev, I’m really sorry about everything you heard when I was on the phone. I wasn’t, uh, very fair to you.”

“That’s okay.” Lev grinned up at him then, “I’m really glad you like my legs, Yaku-san. And my eyes and hair.”

It was Yaku’s turn to blush then, and unlike Lev, it hit him fiercely, spreading all the way from his neck to his ears. “Y-yeah, well they’re… nice.” Did he just fucking fumble over his words? When did he become a blushing school kid? This was the worst. As if he couldn’t embarrass himself any more. _Why did he say that?_

A lady's voice rang out through the car, announcing the next stop they were now coming in to. Sweet, sweet relief.

“This is my stop.” Yaku rushed suddenly, standing up and grabbing his bag. He hurried towards the doors as the train slowed, praying they would just open up already so he could jump out and away from his thorough humiliation.

“Wait! Yaku-san!” he was pulled around by his sleeve which, he noticed, was clutched in Lev’s grip. “Please, can I have your number? Maybe we could hang out sometime here, or back in Tokyo.”

Yaku stared. After everything, Lev still wanted to see him again? After all the mean things he’d said about him to Kuroo, heck he’d even said he hated the guy! Lev must have some really low standards because that was far from a good first impression.

Yaku was weak and Lev was hot. “Sure.” He took Lev’s offered phone, quickly punching in his number just as the train doors opened.

“Thank you. Thank you, Yaku-san!” Lev beamed as Yaku stepped onto the platform. “I’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, Lev.” Yaku allowed a small smile and a wave. He turned to leave.

“Oh! Yaku-san!”

“Hmm?” Yaku spun around, eyebrow raised.

“I was talking to my friend about you on the phone, too!”

The doors shut, leaving Lev grinning through the glass, waving at him enthusiastically. Yaku snapped his jaw shut, tracking the train with his eyes until it rounded the corner, out of sight.

“Damn it.” He muttered under his breath, walking towards the exit and wondering why he’d never thought to learn Russian.

 

 

**...**

 

 

The following morning Yaku woke up to three messages. The first was from an unknown number that’s obviously Lev, wishing him good morning in his overly chipper way. He definitely did not smile when he saw it. Yaku saved his number under ‘Legs for days’.

 

He didn't even know why he looked at the last two messages after he saw who they were from.

 

 

 

 **_From:_ ** _Bedhead extraordinaire~_

 **_Sub:_ ** _yaku’s rampant sex life_

_How was the ride on the Russian Express last night?_

_Does he slip into Russian right before he comes? Asking for a friend._

 

  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> you dont undertsand how hard it was to pick a morning after text from kuroo im still not even happy with those but hey
> 
> (ps: kuroo stole yaku's phone and added to his contact name. It used to just say bedhead)
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated ♥
> 
> _EDIT: check the comments if you wanna see the other texts i was considering for kuroo lol_


End file.
